


Morning Without You is a Dwindled Dawn

by AbhorrentGodliness



Series: Kinktober 2019 [24]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Blow Jobs, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Mac is a sleepy boy, Morning Sex, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, Wake-Up Sex, it's just oral, sorry folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 20:49:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21167672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbhorrentGodliness/pseuds/AbhorrentGodliness
Summary: Nate wakes up at the crack of dawn every morning and MacCready absolutelyhatesit.Day 24: Wake-up blowjob ⦾ Oral sex





	Morning Without You is a Dwindled Dawn

If there was one constant in the universe, it was that MacCready was _not_ a morning person.

He hated mornings—_despised_ them. If he could wake up some time later in the day, preferably afternoon, that was great; but ever since he’d started traveling with Nate, he was waking up earlier. And not just midmorning-type-of-early, no—more like ass-o’clock-in-the-morning early. _Early_-early. And Mac frickin’ _hated_ it.

Nate blamed it on his prewar occupation of having been in the military and how he had to wake up at dawn every morning when he was enlisted, the habit just sticking with him ever since. Really, that sort of stuff sounded like a load of unnecessary brahmin shhh—crap, but it made sense. Still, even with the nuisance of waking up so gosh darn early, RJ followed Nate around because they were friends. Well, and lovers.

And because of caps.

Couldn’t forget the caps.

But this morning was a bit different when waking. The sun was peeking through the makeshift curtain he’d installed on the window—or, rather, his scarf that he’d hung over the wooden boards someone had nailed up however long ago—even though he had hoped it would dim the light; yet, he also knew it was pointless because it was never actually the sun that woke Nate up, but rather his internal clock. 

However, rather than Nate barking at him to get up, Mac stirred from something else—a sort of feeling that was definitely pleasurable but also unexpected. Mac grumbled a bit, his arm flinging over his eyes as if he was able to block out the light that wasn’t even in his face at the moment; but when the disturbance never went away and, instead, he felt a hand slide up from his thigh to his hip, his stirring became more than just a grumbling at the unoffending sunlight.

The arm on his face lifted just slightly as his eyes cracked open to look down, only to be met by a pair of hazel eyes that were peering back up at him from his groin.

Again, it was unexpected.

But it definitely was not unwelcome.

Nate was between MacCready’s legs with the mercenary’s semi-hard dick in his mouth, one hand on Mac’s hip and the other with his thumb and forefinger around the base of Mac’s cock, the rest of his fingers splayed across his groin, and palm on his balls. RJ was quickly growing hard—and, hey, who could blame him? Nate was a gosh darn _hunk._ Was that a weird word? Hunk? That sounded kinda weird. Was that even the _right_ word? Nate wasn’t super buff or super muscly or anything, not like those tin can jerks; he _did_ have muscle—plenty of it—but it was combined with fat, and it was _fitting._ He could definitely lift MacCready over his head without a struggle, that was for sure.

Almost like... a yao guai. Or something.

“Mm. Havin’ fun there, hotshot?” RJ asked, his voice raspy and low from sleep. Nate made a low humming noise that vibrated Mac’s cock and coaxed a hiss of air to be inhaled between his teeth, his arm finally leaving his face to travel down to Nate’s hair, fingers gently running through the dark brown locks. It was completely shaved on the sides while the top was left long and brushed back, but now it was falling to the side and in his face, though Mac made sure to brush it away.

Hell, that was another thing he loved about this vault dweller—his hair. Or, more specifically, how the color of it didn’t even match his beard. Mac hadn’t met many men who had that sort of feature, though Nate had said he was _’plagued with red beard, brown hair,’_ even though the mercenary didn’t think of it as a plague.

“You know, if you wake me up like this more often, I won’t have a problem getting up so early.”

There was a look shot at him—_that_ sort of look; he didn’t even know how to explain it, but he knew Nate would pummel him if he kept running his mouth.

But he was never one to stop doing that, was he?

“What’s the matter, Nate? Getting—_oh, fuck—frick.”_ The head of MacCready’s cock was pressed to the back of Nate’s throat and he felt the vaultie swallow around the head, Mac’s breath getting nearly knocked out of him from the sensation. His back arched a bit and he felt Nate’s fingers dig into his hip, but when his cock was slid free from the warmth of his lover’s lips, he nearly whined.

“Don’t make me regret giving you head right after I woke up, RJ,” Nate growled, and MacCready could only nod and mumble an apology as his eyes closed, head falling back against the bedroll.

The vaultie took him in again and was sucking hard, bobbing his head and using his hand to stroke the rest of what he wasn’t taking in his mouth. Mac could feel heat coiling deep in his gut and at the base of his spine, and one of his hands were gripping the edge of the bedroll beneath him in his fist, his hips just slightly bucking each time Nate bobbed his head downward to take more of him in.

“Oh, god, Nate. I’m—I’m gonna—” Mac gritted his teeth and Nate removed his hand, sucking a bit harder and bobbing his head a bit faster as the mercenary reached the edge and toppled over it. Not even just toppled—he tripped over his bootlaces, then a rock, fell face-first into a garbage can filled with baby deathclaws, and then rolled right off the edge into his orgasm. “Ah, shit—crap—darn—damn—fuck—shit—frick—fuckfuckfuckfuck_fuck—“_

Well, the cuss jar was getting quite a few caps already today.

His back bowed as he came, Nate’s nose buried against his groin as he spilled right down his lover’s throat while the string of words dissolved into a low moan that rumbled from his chest. And by the time he finally finished coming, he was panting, a light layer of sweat covering his face and chest. Nate pulled away and gave him one last lick to the slit on his cock, ensuring he was clean, before climbing up the bedroll beside him. The vaultie laid down on his side and propped his head up with his hand, using his free arm to drape it over Mac’s abdomen and pull him close against the older man’s body. RJ just laid there like a lump of… something, letting Nate move him around since he was still so darn tired, not just from having an orgasm but because it was _so early._

After a few moments, MacCready rolled onto his side and buried his face against Nate’s chest. “We have to get up, don’t we?” he grumbled.

“Mm. Nah, I’ll let you sleep in.”

“… Really?”

Nate snorted and shoved him away. “No. Get your ass up, we gotta get moving.”

“Oh… okay.”

If there was one person in the entire world who could make Robert Joseph MacCready stop fricking talking and just accept his fate, it was Nathanial Parker.

**Author's Note:**

> title is a quote by Emily Dickinson


End file.
